XXVIII

Before I continue writing, I understand that some Yoshies may actually be offended by what I have to say here and by my views, so to them I apologise. I am writing my autobiography, after all. I assure you, though, that what I have experienced and done is truth. If I am branded a madman or a heretic for this part of my story, so be it. All I know is that I have the greatest of company for support, and have many things that you probably don’t and probably never will.

Regardless of my disclaimer above, I do find it quite hard to believe what happened next, even if I take it for granted now. I thought that just being the Guardian of the Cyan Arc would be the end of what life had in store for me. As it proved, it was not finished with me yet, and even today I still doubt it has.

After my fall, the next thing I can remember is lying in what would have to be one of the most comfortable beds ever made, nice and warm under some blankets, slowly returning to consciousness…

…And seeing, at the end of the bed, a somewhat transparent black figure exuding a black aura, with white glowing eyes that had no pupils in them.

I closed my eyes and rubbed them with my fingers a good while, then opened them again.

There was, at the end of the bed, a somewhat transparent black figure exuding a black aura, with white glowing eyes that had no pupils in them.

I tensed, my eyes fear-stricken. I pinched myself.

There was, at the end of the bed, a somewhat transparent black figure exuding a black aura, with white glowing eyes that had no pupils in them.

I screamed and I did what came first to me. I rolled out of the bed and tried to get myself as prostrate on the floor as I possibly could. Little did I know how weak and pained I was – I yelled again. Suddenly, I was floating up in the air and back into the bed, the covers put back in place over me without being touched physically.

“Please, do not do that again,” said the Markior, grimacing.

I shivered. This was the Markior, and I was in his presence. Me! I fumbled for something to say, random sounds coming out of my mouth.

“You aren’t dead, but you came close,” he answered my unspoken question.

I yelped and threw the covers over me and curled up into a little ball. Perhaps the most powerful of the Yoshi Gods was there, pulling the covers away with his hand. I yelped again, curled up tighter and shivered harder.

“Mortals,” he sighed. “You do a good deed for them, and you are repaid with trembling like a leaf. I’m not going to hurt you.”

My shivering diminished and I braved a look under my arm at one of the gods I had prayed to before my meals. “Y-y-you’re n-n-ot-t-t?”

“I am the Yoshi Guardian, by Khas. Does that make you believe me, or not?”

I risked showing my face again, my trembling now a nervous jitter inside me. “I…I guess…”

He quickly raised a hand. I drew back from this action, but he spoke, “Please do not call me by some sort of title. ‘Markior’ is good enough.” He paused. “You were about to.”

I bit my lip.

“I am not going to pass divine judgement on you, either.”

All of his answers were to questions I had in my head. Reading minds is a skill that does come quite naturally to him as the god of them, after all.

“It appears quite obvious that you are shocked by my presence. Many mortals are. But, I sense that you are no ordinary mortal. First, you come to me, not vice versa, second, you have an aura of power about you, and third, you have a powerful weapon that you seem built to use quite well, so I know without reading your mind that you are not a thief.”

I patted the Cyan Arc for comfort, still in my belt as he spoke. As he finished, I passed my hand over my Pokéballs.

“Nessie!” I cried, sitting up.

“Your Dragonite is fine and recovering well,” he assured me. “Do not worry.”

I slouched again into the warm embrace of the bed, now in a more relaxed pose, pulling the covers back over me. As he moved back to the foot of the bed, I felt embarrassed, realising I had nothing to say to who was supposed to be the most knowledgeable of the gods.

“No, I do not know all of the secrets of the universe, but perhaps I will, one day.”

I blinked. This was thrown in the face of the beliefs I had grown up with.

“I see your surprise,” he chuckled. “For example, I have not as yet read your name. I thought you might like to tell me, seeing as you already clearly know that I am the Markior.”

Being in the presence of a god, I decided to let loose, because it would only seem proper that he knew all of it. “Dyluck Thanatos Yoshi von Kippo, Ph.D. Yos.Ana., Guardian of the Cyan Arc,” I said, somewhat meekly, still reeling from his revelation. “I usually go by the name of Lich, though.”

“I…see,” he spoke, slowly. “Lich. But tell me, what is this Cyan Arc?” His eyes literally lit up with interest.

I freed it from my belt and placed it in my lap. “This.”

“So you guard your weapon? That is interesting. I am impressed. From one guardian to another, I welcome you.”

I nodded and smiled, still with a twinge of nervousness. I remembered then how I got there.

“Do not worry about it,” he assured me with a smile.

I blinked. “I…I…”

“Speak freely. You are a Yoshi of good character and pure intentions. Relax.”

I gulped down my nervousness. “I’m…I’m just a bit…”

“Daunted?” he prompted.

“Yes. And when…er…”

“I answer your questions before you ask them you’re uncomfortable.” It was his turn to blink as he realised what he had said without apparently thinking. “Um, yes, indeed. My apologies.” I felt his inner gaze leave, like a cool jelly enveloping my brain, except in reverse. He hastily decided to change the subject. “Do you have any family?”

“My parents live in Kippo, on Fa’Diel, my aunt lives in Yoshiville, and I have…well,” I sighed, looking down, “a crazy grandmother and a fair number of relatives who have died, or are missing, particularly my brother.”

He was silent as he moved his hands together.

I looked up at him, with zealous vigour. “You’re the Guardian of Yoshies, you protect us all and everything…do I have a cousin, and do I…do I still have…a brother?”

This was probably a very hard question for him to answer. He sighed as well. “I…I have protected many Yoshies for many years, so two individual Yoshies that I have protected do not stand out any more than the others,” he spoke diplomatically. “I also cannot be everywhere at once. I want to answer yes to you, but truthfully, I do not know. I am sorry.”

My beliefs were shattered. My heart sank. He whom I trusted in most certainly knowing the answer did not. The God of the Mind, the Guardian of Yoshies, did not know if Ark survived the flood. He did not know if my cousin was alive. But what he said then had a positive aspect as well. I realised from his words that the gods are like the Guardians, particularly the Palace Guardians, in that they are chosen to assume their role because they are the best at what they do: being the best is not the same as being all powerful. Nevertheless, the blow his words had forced the tears to flow, and with some surprise, I found him patting my shoulder.

“I am sure that what you have heard and seen in the past few minutes has changed your life,” he said soothingly. “But, I sense deep inside, you believe your brother is alive.”

“Will…will that change, too?” I sobbed.

“You came here and found that the gods and goddesses do not know everything, are not all powerful and are not everywhere at once,” he told me.

“What…what is that supposed to mean?”

“I must admit that I read the tragedy of the flood, as it is such a large part of your life,” he explained. “I suggest going into those caves and looking for him, or at least the presence of him.”

“But…but how do I…how do I get in? And out?” It struck me. “Nessie and Quake,” I answered myself, sniffing.

“Yes. Now, I do not suggest going there right now, as you are still rather weak from your fall.” He smiled. “I have some business that needs attending to, so if you need anything, please, ring this bell and my butler Klongo will help you.” He moved towards the door. “It is good to meet you, Lich. We shall talk again soon. En Taro Adun.”

I blinked away the last of the tears, cheering up. “En Taro Adun?”

“Yes. It is a greeting of the Protoss, a race I know quite well upon the world of Aiur. I was somewhere else before becoming the Yoshi Guardian,” he spoke nostalgically. “Now. En Taro Adun.”

“Er…En Taro Adun.”

“That is it,” he said, smiling again, and floated through the door.

I sat there for quite a while in disbelief, thinking over what had just happened. The Markior and I had, to all extents and purposes, a fairly casual discussion. Part of me was informing the rest of me that these things don’t happen. It had. I also had some sort of direction to find out if Ark survived.

After retrieving a Round Drop from my Storage to boost my healing along, I began to feel hungry. I rang the bell.

“Yessss, ssssir?” asked Klongo, appearing out of nowhere.

I was surprised by his quick service, but more so by his appearance: a large green-skinned fellow with two eyes, one much larger than the other, garbed in a white cloak-like shirt.

“Uh…hi,” I spoke quietly. “You must be Klongo.”

“Yessss, ssssir. Issss there ssssomething you require?”

“Um…I’m starting to feel hungry, sso – so, what’s on offer?” I asked. I continually have to keep correcting myself around him, as his lisp is quite catching.

“Eyeballssss, sssir,” he answered, showing me his tray, a bowl full of them.

“Eyeballs?”

“Eyeballssss.” He took one out of the bowl and placed it in my hand. “Pleasssse, have one.”

Since he had inflicted one upon me, I decided that I should eat it so I didn’t offend him. I was a guest of his master’s, after all. I closed my eyes and gingerly placed it in my mouth, wondering what I had gotten into, when I realised how sweet and crunchy it was. I swallowed. “Candy?”

“Yessss, ssssir,” he replied with a smile. “You did not think they were real eyeballssss, did you?”

“Uh…no. No, heh heh. No. Anything else on offer?”

I had some Wiggler soup, once he made it and came back from the kitchen. As I recall, it was pretty good.

I slept for a while, dreaming that I was walking across grassy fields lit by two moons at night; I forget the rest of it, though. It came to an abrupt end when I was awoken by vibration. I wondered if a small earthquake had hit, but nothing had seemed to come out of it after lying for a while in silence in the now dark room. It was quite easy to fall asleep again in the comfortable bed.

The next morning I was greeted again by the Markior, who persuaded me to see if I could walk. I took a few ginger steps, but found I was, more or less, back in shape.

“I…I suppose I’d be on my way now,” I said. I was sad as I would be leaving him, and I doubted he would let me return.

“If you want to,” he replied. “Otherwise, if you think you are up to it, feel free to explore Olympus. The gods and goddesses will definitely welcome you.”

So, I did, after he showed me around his Lair; at least, the more public parts of it. Overall, I noticed the running theme of the colour grey: when I questioned him about it, he told me that it is his favourite colour as it signifies balance. Perhaps the greatest highlight of the tour was the battle room, and when I saw it, I had to sit down. The room seems to defy logic and physics, with parts of it being indoors and outdoors at the same time. I could see the sun above, yet also the ceiling with its rafters. A hammock was stretched between two of them where a figure slumbered – I recognised him as the winged vampire god Drakonis and I was quick (yet quiet) to show my surprise to Markior.

“Yes,” he replied, looking back up at him pitifully. “He had an argument with his wife Morgana last night. It made a pretty big thump.”

We decided to leave him in peace after I peered around the room some more, paying particular attention to the pool of blood and the burning sofa. Nessie had healed and I was re-united with him – he forgave me for my lack of experience. After returning him to his Pokéball, we went out of the Lair into the fields of Olympus, clouds in the chasm beneath the bridge to it, some snow still about. It seemed to be almost like a picture – I told Markior this and he said that Luna had actually drawn it, through her powers of the ground.

A rather ornate, stately building sat in the fields, which I realised was the Aurorium, the great forum of the gods. It was said that mortals who made it to Olympus could make their petition to them there, hence its name as a place where one can be heard. I did not really have any petitions. Not yet, at least.

We entered the foyer of the building, where statues and pictures of the gods and some mortals lined the walls. Blue and pink diamond checkerboard tiles stretched along the floor to a set of large wooden doors.

“After you,” Markior offered.

I opened it and went in. I was standing before many of the gods and goddesses, who had stopped whatever they were doing at the time to turn and look at me as the door clicked shut.

“Hi?” I said, waving nervously. “Uh…my name’s Dyluck Thanatos Yoshi von Kippo, but I go by the name of Lich…um…I came here rather by accident, and…”

“Welcome to the Aurorium!” Chryseis Yosheena, goddess of ice cheered. Her cry was echoed around.

And the rest, as they say, is history. I was welcomed into the fold of the Yoshi pantheon, gaining the friendship of quite a number of the gods and goddesses, as well as some of the mortals who came by every now and again, and stayed on in our company. Some of us became quite close. I quickly found myself commuting between Yoshibane and Olympus on Nessie’s back.

It was not long before I was able to show off my battle prowess in Markior’s battle room. With my natural talent, and trained as part of my Refinement and also by my school pursuit of fencing, sparring became a pastime of mine. My first opponent was North, the god of snow, who was quite impressed by my skills – others over time were also.

The reason for this, so I believe, would be revealed soon, somewhat related to a fighter I came across. Surely, he must be the pinnacle of the craft. I would say that he is powerful, not just physically, but definitely mentally, so much so that to fight him is quite an honour, even if I always lose or draw a tie. There are other aspects that are even greater honours that I am thankful daily for.

What is ironic, though, is that he and I had a rather rocky start, before I even left Fa’Diel.